Black
by Heretic angel
Summary: A Boondock saints fic .


The boondock saints - BLACK   

I'm outside your house , 2am it's dark , so many mistakes , come back home from bars , i am on your side , I just want to tell you off . So many lies are taking hold , it's not your fault , there's many scars.

Pete Yorn - On your side - musicforthemorningafter- Columbia 

1#

The rain fell hard upon the asphalt, while two men slowly searched their way through chockful, wet garbage bags  that were put there by the occupiers of the illegal , overcrowded , cheap renting pawns to be taken by the refuse collector the next morning . 

The two men were soaked , just like everything that had spent the night outside . Their heads were full with the hard haze that the booze had given them , their tongues poisoned with the bitter taste . All life on the street had died away , apart from the siren of an ambulance in far away streets , and the buzzing of an air-conditioning .  

He wondered why for heaven's sake anybody needed the air-conditioning in these cold streets of Boston , where in wintertime inside it could often get colder than outside . His eyes followed the slow movements of his brother , looked at the black hair that was glued to his skull , afterwards looked at his miserable woolen trenchcoat that had started to become fluffy because of the pouring rain and then he looked to his face . 

Little baby brother of me , he thought . You will never realize , that I'm gradually having enough this . Of this all . 

" What's up , Connor ? " He halted  , turned around and attentively  looked at his brother , just as he could settle his thoughts by taking up every millimeter of his brother's face . 

"Your head is giving you orders , but your limbs carry them out ten times delayed . " He tapped with his index finger on his head . " You've been drinking too much once again . "   

The rain still fell hard upon them , drops came upon his eyes , his  eyebrows , his hair . Connor looked at his brother sadly for a moment , then got back into step .

They didn't walk fast . What did it matter , when you were soaked anyway ? 

One of them halted . It was Murphy . Murphy , with his typical Northern Irish hair color , his narrow eyes and his tick Irish accent . 

" The fuck . There IS something wrong with you Connor . In the past you always knew the fuck to stop drinking right on time . One beer and that was it .  I don't fucking get it . "  

The light of a lone street lantern fell upon his brother's face , where he read an emotion that seemed too strange to him already , and that scared his guts out of him .  Twins , they were , familiar with every emotion , with every  single common thought they had shared though their toddler and teen years out in the cold and dangerous streets of Boston . 

" Let's go home , Murph .I'm tired . " It came out of him like a breath of wind , and disappeared as quickly . 

2#

The water of the showers disappeared rattling in the drain-pipe , while the two brothers dried off their lean bodies , their arms tired of the events of the day , their heads and eyes too weary to stay awake . 

Then they pulled on white , worn-out boxer shorts ; almost discolored to a scanty yellow , and sauntered to their beds , or rather said , their mattresses . Mattresses which could be found on the streets , often riddled with bullets , only a few of them not covered with blood . The blankets they slept under had been a long forgotten gift of a mother they barely could remember , and pillows they had found in one or other second hand store . 

They lived in a simple way , that was for sure . So simple , that sometimes you lost your mind . That sometimes you just wanted to give or throw your few possessions away , and just buy new furniture . You can't be miserly when you don't have any more , or at least just enough to get around . 

They couldn't disappear underneath their blankets tonight . Sometimes that sleep wouldn't come . The sandman didn't come to sprinkle magic sand into their eyes . 

" Fuck , Connor . Thought you were tired ." Murphy glanced to the right  , where  his brother had laid himself down upon one hard mattress .

Silence . The rustling of the sheets clearly pointed out that he wasn't asleep yet . 

" I am . Just can't sleep . "

More rustling , and the clicking of a lighter . Then light , for one second . The burning of a fag that lighted up when his brother hauled his cigarette . He felt something fall upon his legs . Probably the package of fags . He reached for it , opened the package and found a fag and lighter . Skilfully he put his fag between his lips and lit it . 

" Is it because of the bar fight ? " , Murphy started . " Don't ye give a damn 'bout that . Everybody is kicked in his balls . Sooner or later . "

A clack pointed out that Connor disagreed . His fag lit up again . 

" This shit we're  doing here  ... Shooting these mob guys ,  do you still want to continue with that ? "

Murphy nodded , but then it came into mind that Connor couldn't see his gesture in the darkness of the large room . 

" We're fighting for a good cause here , Connor . Veritãs , ãequitas .Truth , justice ." , he answered . 

Connor crushed the butt of his fag against the jam jar that stood next to his 'bed' and turned his back , and dropped his head tiredly upon his pillow . 

3#

The morning came as a sigh , and the light stung undisturbedly into his eyes . Murphy opened his eyes , welcomed the room with one look and then looked to the right of him , where his brother should've been sleeping . That was empty . He again looked around in the room . Nowhere to be seen .

'Not a fucking problem ' , he thought . Maybe he was getting some food , fags or ... booze . He quickly shrugged the thouht of him . No booze , he thought . But it would fit in the picture . Connor , who drank , and started , really drunk ,fights with all kind of guys . Shit , they've been thrown out of bars more times than some transvestite would have sex with a man for no money at all . 

" What the fuck , Connor . Am I once waking up later then you , you're the fuck gone ! " ; he mumbled angrily as he tried to enter in his worn-out , torn jeans . Then he pulled his black shirt over his head , and his shoes followed . 

He literally ran out of his apartement, after having put on his crucifix and jacket , almost flew off the stairs because the elevator was broken once again and .... found Connor leaning against the wall , smoking a fag . 

" Shit , man . Couldn't you have stayed inside ? T'is freezing here !  " 

Connor lifted his hand and said shortly : "Il Duce beeped us . He needs our help with a mission . We gotta be there at ten . "

" Well , what the fuck are we waiting for ? " 

Yeah , what the fuck are we waiting for ? Connor looked at the traffic passing by , looked at the few 'lost' teenagers not on their way to school , their parents totally unaware . 

Poor mom , he thought . You know what were doing now ? Shooting up some mob guys  just because the first time was the right one . All of it for the money . Like dad . Jaysus ; they did a lot for dad . 

" We're going out for breakfast first ." , Connor stated , better said ordered . " At Joe's . "

" Yeah , and then we might as well fart the fucking mafia to death ! You know you and I can't stand garlic . " , his brother rejected his statement quickly . 

"Yeah , because we fart . What different does it makes ? Or if we fart , or burp , or throw up , or fucking shoot them , or shoot them and fart ...  Who cares !?  They're gonna die in the ten next seconds after we blasted all those bullets in them ." 

Connor shrugged his shoulders . " Besides , that's where he told us to wait for him . At Joe's . "

" Daft , you ! "  Murphy patted him on the back of his head and then ran , expecting Connor to follow him , when when he looked behind , he saw that Connor was still walking , and not running . Slowing down to a leisurely pace , he walked next to Connor . 

" What's up ? " 

" Got a hangover . Now shut up . "

With an apologizing guesture , by spreading out his arms wide , Murphy showed his fake regret . 

" Alright man . Fucking won't get in your way ."  'May as well buy some aspririn . His head is fucking going to blow up when we shoot . ", he muttered angrily , not yet used to Connor's moody hangovers . 

( nog niet af . Ik schrijf alles eerst in het Nederlands Nvdr .)


End file.
